


Our Little Thing

by 1dasfudge



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: I tag as I go, M/M, Quick Read, Takes place from early 60s to late 60s, again idk yet, idk yet, it's mainly cute, let's see if i finish this one lol, maybe even the 70s, might get sad later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 17,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19198900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1dasfudge/pseuds/1dasfudge
Summary: Paul had a ridiculous grin on his face. “Why’d you do that?”“Do what?” John finished what he was writing and looked up.“That thing with your hand.”“I don’t know.”“What does it mean?”“I don’t know Paulie.” John said with an endearing smile. “But it could be our thing.”





	1. P.S. I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Read this please :)
> 
> Hello again! I know I said I'll post more soon but that was like three months ago and... yeah. BUT I'm on summer break which means I have more free time! So, to make up for my lie, I'm making a new series based on "Spider-Hand thing" John and Paul would do from time to time. I got this idea from mclennonwasreal on Tumblr after I read his post of what he thought of it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, this interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pkpu5OHzu18  
> at exactly 10:40 is when it happens. Cute right? Makes you wonder why John wanted to do that in the middle of the interview right? Which is why I'm writing this series lol. Okay, now I hope you enjoy reading this and I'll try my hardest to actually update at a regular time. :)

Paul lay on the fresh grass of his backyard. His father is out and he’s supposed to keep an eye on Mike but he figured Mike is old enough to be on his own. His eyes were closed now, breathing in as much oxygen as possible then exhaling it all out. This was much better than the smokey clubs of Hamburg. 

“Am I interrupting?”

Paul’s eyes shot open to see John looking down at him, adjusting his glasses, and  blocking the sun as he did so. “No.” Paul answered.

“Really? You looked like you were somewhere else.” John chuckled.

Still laying on the grass, Paul asked “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Your brother let me in.” John moved and sat next to Paul. The sun was back in his eyes so he let them shut once more.

“God, nobody’s doing anything today, I’m bored out of my mind!”

“Why do you think I’m laying outside?”

“Well, I thought you’d be doing something, hence why I walked all the way here in this bloody heat!”

“You shouting is only going to make it hotter.”

“You sound like Mimi. At least look at me when your speaking to me.”

Paul tsked then slowly raised up and blinked his eyes. He turned his whole body to face John. “Better?”

“Much better.” They were both staring at each other now. John took off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. “Wanna write a song or something? I brought me notepad.”

“I suppose we could, it’ll kill some time. I’ll get my guitar.”

“Go on then.” John watched as Paul stood to leave and waited till he returned. Paul soon came back with his guitar and a drink. Mike was behind him, kinda sweaty and holding a drink as well.

“Mike bought lemonade.” 

“I bought lemonade.” Mike said as he passed the drink to John to have.

“Ta.”

“I’m off to bathe.” Mike left without saying another word. Paul settled down back to his spot before.

“A man of few words.”

“He still doesn’t know you is all.” Paul took a sip of the fizzy drink and set it down beside him. He began to strum his guitar. “What are we feeling? Love song?”

“A simple love song wouldn’t hurt.”

It didn’t take them long for them to write a couple lines. The more they were together they wrote their songs faster.

_ “As I write this letter, send my love to you, remember that I'll always, be in love with you…” _

_ “Treasure these few words 'til we're together, keep all my love forever, P.S. I love you… You, you, you!” _

Paul giggles. “Three ‘yous’?”

“It sounds good! I’ll add that in.” John scribbled down the extra ‘yous’.

Paul continued to strum the same pattern, but no lyrics came out. He stopped abruptly. “Sorry, I’m stumped. Got any ideas?”

John hummed and thought for a couple of seconds. He looked at Paul like he was searching for something. He looked away to take a sip from his drink, set it down, then looked back at Paul. Paul watched as he saw a flicker of light flash through John’s eyes. He had an idea.

_ “I'll be coming home again to you love…” _ John’s made his right hand be like a spider and made it crawl through the grass. It stopped in front of Paul’s right hand.  _ “And 'til the day I do love…” _ John let his hand scurry up Paul’s arm and watched and it slightly made Paul giggle.  _ “P.S. I love you… You, you, you! _ ” John then ended all that by booping Paul’s nose. Without another word John wrote the lyrics he just sang.

Paul had a ridiculous grin on his face. “Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” John finished what he was writing and looked up.

“That thing with your hand.”

“I don’t know.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know Paulie.” John said with an endearing smile. “But it could be our thing.”

“Whatever that  _ thing _ was it made me smile so, don’t stop doing that thing.”

John smiled again. “I’ll do that then.”


	2. City Of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some French in this chapter so here are the translations:
> 
> "Excusez moi madame," - Excuse me madam,  
> "Très jolie aujourd’hui." - Very pretty today.  
> "Nous vous avons vu assis seul," - We saw you sitting alone,  
> "Elle est belle!" - She is beautiful!  
> "Vous voulez vraiment ces chapeaux gratuitement." - You really want these hats for free.  
> "Quoi?" - What?  
> "Merci beaucoup." - Thank you so much.  
> They also sing "Frere Jacques" I'm sure most of y'all already know how that goes lol.
> 
> Fun fact, I took French for four years in high school!  
> Anyway, enjoy! :)

As the city went from darkness to light, they walked across in silence. They were exhausted, even sleeping in the car ride, the nice man who drove didn’t have a problem with that. Without the traffic they walked right down the center of the street and not far away was The Eiffel Tower. They found an affordable place to stay, they just needed to share a bed, not a problem. In a heap, John collapsed on the bed and snoozed away, clothes still on and all. Paul chuckled to himself and reached in his bag to get his camera and quickly snapped a picture of a sleepy John. He soon joined the bed, removing his boots, and laid out the other way.

Sunshine shining through the windows and the distant chatter from outside made the boys wake from their dreams. They almost woke at the same time, John took his time opening his eyes and Paul sat straight up to stretch.

“Good morning Paris.” Paul yawned.

“Oh right, that’s where we are.” John joked as he mumbled against his pillow.

The two made it downstairs to have breakfast. They were silent as they munched on bread with jam and sipped on coffee. Once they were done they walked out to the streets of Paris.

“This is so weird.” Paul announced.

“Huh?”

“This is weird. I’ve never been this far away from home before. It feels strange.”

“Look at those hats.” John pointed out randomly. There was a little shop selling bowler hats and a young woman was waiting for more customers to come. They walked over and once they saw the price, they switched their charm on.

“ _Excusez moi madame_ , you look, _très jolie aujourd’hui._ ” Paul said. The woman giggled, probably at the younger man's attempt at French.

“Um, _nous vous avons vu assis seul_ , and we thought, wow, _elle est belle!_ ”

She shook her head but with a smile on her face. “ _Vous voulez vraiment ces chapeaux gratuitement._ ”

They both exchanged a look of confusion. “ _Quoi?_ ” They both said.

She laughed now. “You two are too cute.” She said, accent thick. “You want these hats for free and so you two play charming.”

You can sense the awkwardness in the air. They should just book it right then and there.

“Ah, but you two make me laugh. Here.” She grabbed two hats and handed them to them. Again, they share a confused look and begin to slowly back away.

“ _Merci beaucoup._ ” Paul called out. They picked up their pace a little more.

“I can’t believe that worked!” John was all giddy, twirling his hat on his finger.

“No, it didn’t. It backfired, weren't you there?”

“Yes, but we still got the hats.”

“We’re luck she’s nice and didn’t call security or something.”

“Come on Paul, have a laugh.”

“I’ll have a burger if you’re willing to pay.”

And so they move on with their day, putting on their hats and pretending to be someone they’re not. Around lunch, they wandered into a diner and they had burgers which Paul was very excited about. As they waited for their food, It looked like John’s mind was someplace else. He kept looking out the window, squinting.

“I told you, should’ve brought your glasses.” Paul took a sip of his banana milkshake.

“I’ll be right back.” John moved out of the booth to leave.

“Where are you going, we haven't paid yet!”

“It’ll only take a second.” And before Paul could say anything he was out the door. He tried to peer out the window to see where the older boy was going but John had already walked too far. Five minutes passes and the waiter brought their food to the table. Paul avoided eye contact to avoid the obvious question. John eventually returned the same way he left. Without anything.

“Where did you go?” Paul ate a fry off of John’s plate.

“I thought I saw someone we knew.”

“...In Paris?”

“You never know! I’m back here am I? Let’s eat.” And just like that Paul had forgotten about the situation.

Noon became evening and the two was pretty satisfied with their first day in Paris. Still having their hats on and a couple of drinks in their system, they were singing or slurring a French nursery.

“ _Frere Jacques, frere Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?_ ”

“ _Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines, ding, ding, dong! Ding, ding, dong!_ ” John pulled on Paul’s ear playfully and laughed and Paul swatted him away.

“Alright, ready to call it a night Lenny?”

“Uh huh.”

They returned to their room and threw their hats off, followed by the clothes they wore all day. Both in white vests and boxers, they both sat in bed facing each other.”

“Close your eyes.” John said.

“Why?”

“Just do.” John smiled at Paul which assured him that everything was going to be okay. So Paul closed them. Paul could make out that John was getting something because the bed shook a bit. Them he felt John’s fingers slowly climb up Paul’s arm. Paul couldn’t hide the fact that it tickled, so he let out some giggles. Then John booped his nose.

“Okay, open them.”

Paul did and felt something on the right wrist. He looked down to see a bright silver bracelet with his name printed on the tab. He gasped.

“Is this for me?”

John nodded.

“When did you get this?”

“On our way to the diner, I say a jewelry shop selling ID bracelets. That’s why I left you at the diner, to go buy it. It wasn’t too expensive but I thought you’d like it. Wait, you do like it right?”

In a swift movement, Paul pressed his lips against John’s. They slowly moved into each other, embracing each other tightly. Paul pulled away, with tears in his eyes.

“I love it.”


	3. Big Apple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first trip to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more French...
> 
> “Monsieur” - Mister  
> “Ca va” - What’s up?  
> “Comme ci comme ca” - So-so
> 
> I was going to post this earlier but then I fell asleep lol. Enjoy! :)

Years ago, Paul once dreamed about leaving home. His mother would be in tears and his father would be stoic. Mike would pretend he was happy Paul was leaving but then cry when he left the door. He would put is belongings in a small car and head somewhere. Now he’s reliving that dream. It was really early in the morning and he couldn’t sleep all night. He kept thinking about America. He had never been there before, he had only seen it through movies and news. Is it big? Are the people nice? Is the food good? Random questions like these would go through his head. John would say he’s over thinking it but Paul couldn’t help it. Just the thought of John makes Paul smile. He hasn't seen him in a month since they were on break. John wanted to spend time with Cynthia. 

“Mike, would you help me with this?” Paul called. He might’ve slightly overpacked and now his suitcase won’t close. Mike walked over rubbing is tired eyes.

“About time you’re leaving. You’re a pain.”

“I’m going to miss you too. Now get on.” Paul motioned to his open suitcase. Mike closed it and proceeded to sit on it as Paul zipped the sides close.

“All good?” Mike hopped off.

“Yep all good.”

“Jokes aside I will miss you, y’know?”

“I’ll only be gone for three days.”

“Three days too long.”

“Aw, Micky’s gonna miss his big brother! Give us a hug.”

Paul widened his arms and Mike basically fell in and hugged him tightly. Once the brothers pulled apart, Paul asked Mike, “Where’s Da?”

“Downstairs.” Mike sniffed. 

Paul made his way downstairs to see his father in the kitchen making tea. He was still in his pajamas and his back was turned.

“I’m off any minute.” Paul said.

Jim stopped stirring his tea. “You’re done then? Got all of your things sorted out?”

“Yes.”

Finally, Jim turned to face his son. “Don’t make a fool out of yourself in America.”

“I’ll try not too.”

“Are you scared?”

“Not right now, no. Once I’m over there I might be.”

Jim smiled and embraced his son. Paul didn’t want to let go. Two car honks abruptly made the father and son separate.

“I believe that’s yours.” Jim gave Paul a little shove. Paul began to leave but he froze. “Once upon a time your mother would say ‘run towards those doors McCartney!’ Go on, don’t let us down.” 

Paul lifted his suitcase and like his mother said. He headed right towards the door. The chauffeur grabbed Paul’s bags and opened the car door. Inside was George and Ringo. On the other side was Brian, John, and Cynthia. Paul chose the seat next to George.

“Cynthia, you’re coming to America with us?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been.” She smiled and looked at John.

“And Brian said it was okay.” John wrapped his arm around her.

“I thought you said we were going to keep the marriage a secret.” Ringo said.

Brian cleared his throat. “I did and it is. We just have to be careful don’t we?” 

“I guess so.” Paul fiddled with his bracket that John gave him. Still in good shape.

“I wonder what’s the food like in America…” Of course, no matter the situation, George would be thinking of food.

 

Paul didn’t let the surprise visit from Cynthia bother him. She is John’s wife after all. Their little Paris trip was just a little fling but they grew closer as friends since then. At the same time Paul really wanted this trip to be just the boys so he could at least share a bedroom with John again. When they’re on stage, that will be their only time together, besides press. The car ride to the airport was filled with excitement about America. Once on the plane they had a proper breakfast and it seems everybody got some shut eye, except for Paul. He tried to sleep but it never worked out. The pilot announced that they will be arriving in New York in ten minutes and that’s when everybody woke up. Paul didn’t even try to pretend that he was asleep, he kept looking out the window. By the time it was five minutes left everybody crowded to the windows.

“Look how tall the buildings are!” Cynthia said.

“Look how tiny the people are!” John joked.

“I didn’t know it snowed in New York.”

“Ringo it’s February…” George rolled his eyes

“Fellas! Look at my side!” Paul tapped his window. By the time they touched down the boys saw just how many people were waiting for them. Hundreds of thousands of people already screaming.

“That’s a lot of people.” John looked down at Paul. His eyes were glued to the window.

“Alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Alright boys, gather your things and look alive.” Brian announced. 

The airplane doors swung wide open and the deathing screams made everyone alert. They stepped down the steps and took everything in. They had their little press conference, perhaps they were a little too honest, but it was all in good fun. Then they made it to their hotel rooms and Paul could, finally, get some sleep. He had a good five hours in then someone knocked on the door. Paul groaned. He really couldn’t wait it out. He’s going to be jet lagged all day now. He shuffled his feet to the door.

“Who is it?”

“ _ Monsieur  _ Lemon.”

Paul smiled to himself. That was what John called himself when they were in Paris. He opened the door.

“Ah,  _ Monsieur _ McCart.  _ Ca va? _ ”

“ _ Comme ci comme ca. _ ”

John let himself in. “You can’t be so-so now. We gotta do radio press, that’s why I’m here now. Brian told me to fetch you.”

“Well tell him I’ll be over there in a minute.”

“Then we got Ed Sullivan.”

“Oh, forgot about that…”

“Then that club we have to go to. You're still going to that right?”

“I don’t know John I think I’ll have to call it quits on that one.”

“Come off it. It’ll just be us boys. Cyn’s having an early night.”

Paul shook his head and sat back on the bed. “Then maybe I’ll reconsider.” He yawned.

“What time did you fall asleep Paul? You look exhausted.” John next to him.

“I didn’t sleep at all, I was thinking so much I kinda forgot to, even on the plane.”

John immediately hugged Paul. Paul inhales and squeezed John tightly. “I missed you so much.” He mumbled.

“I did too.” John pulled away. “But we have to go come on.”

Paul still stayed seated. He looked at his bracket and fiddlers with the snap that connected it. John sat next to him again.

“Come on…” John crawled his fingers up Paul’s arm again slowly hoping that'll bring a smile to his face. But it just made Paul a little angry. He huffed and searched for his shoes. He didn’t let John finish his thing. That never happened before. John was a little taken aback and he watched Paul leave without saying another word.


	4. They Say It's Your Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian’s first birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovies! Sorry I missed a day, life got busy. But I am back with a new chapter I think y’all will like this one. And thank you to the beautiful people commenting, y’all make my day! Enjoy! :)

In this car, he could barely formulate a thought. There is no cool breeze or cloud to block the full April moon. Paul curls his fingers around the thin leather of the steering wheel, tapping it every once in a while to remind himself that he needs to get inside, but it doesn't work. He's officially late, by the looks of his watch. 

“Come on you wuss, just open the door and walk in.” Paul said to himself. 

Every nerve in his body is telling him not to go, but he promised John he would. After New York, Paul and John silently agreed to keep it friendly between the two of them. Paul even shared a room with George for the rest of the American press tour. For the sake of Cynthia. She didn’t know about them of course, and they intend to keep it that way. But Paul has needs. He hasn’t been touched by John in a while and he’s on edge. Jane ain’t giving him the satisfaction anymore, he needs his first love.

“Okay seriously Paul, go.” He said again. He reaches for the car door, then retracts his hand. “I already know I’m going to melt to the floor when I see him so why even bother? Snap out of it Paul! On three. 1, 2…”

Just when he thinks he'll have to go inside a black car pulls up behind him. Now Paul really can’t go in now. He faces forward and hopes the man will walk right pass. He hears two knocks on his window. He quickly changes his face from scared to friendly. He rolls down his window. It was George.

“I knew that blue car looked familiar. Why are you waiting in your car?” 

“Um, I had a song in my head. I’m trying to remember the melody so I won’t forget it.” Paul lied.

“Oh, is it a hit?”

“Could be.” They have shared a laugh. George began to look around.

“How long have you been here?”

“I just got here.”

“Well come on then. I don’t want to walk in being the only one late.” George then proceeds to open Paul’s car door open. It spooked Paul a bit, he could’ve sworn it was locked. George shut the door and the both of them walked up the hill leading to their friends party.

“Why are you late anyway?”

“I went to buy a gift last minute.” George showed the present to Paul. It was in a small blue box with a white ribbon tied on it.

“Forgot all about a gift. But then again, what do you gift a fresh one year old?”

“Socks. That’s what’s in here.”

The first party John invited Paul to since a long time was Julian’s first birthday party.

They open the door to see the foyer filled with unfamiliar faces. It was a mix of John and Cynthia’s folks. It didn’t take long for them to be greeted by John. Paul watched as John squeezed his way past his relatives, holding a smaller version of himself. A sight Paul never thought he’d see. Then the feeling came in. It came in so fast he needs to grab a hold of something. That something was George’s arm.

“Paul, what are you doing?” George tried to shake Paul off, but he only grabbed on tighter.

“I don’t feel too good.”

“Boys, you’re late!” John called out, smiling.

“Po-wah!” Julian showed his gums at the sight of Paul.

“He’s been needing you this one.” John passed Julian to Paul. “Got a present?”

George passed the blue box to the father. John looked at Paul expecting something from him.

“I didn’t bring anything, sorry… Say, isn’t it a bit too late to hold a birthday party for a one year old?” Paul changed the subject as Julian began to tug on his hair.

“Little Jules sleeps all day and is up all night. We tried naps, more milk, everything in the book.”

“Wow. It really hit me, John your like an actual father now!” George patted John’s back.

“Trying to be, son. Well don’t you want to be with others you know? Follow me! This want my idea to invite all these people, it was Cyn’s.”

 

As the party continued, John engaged more and more with Paul. At first that feeling was strong and it wasn’t going away, then it faded with every little touch, nudge, and wink. They brought the cake out so they gathered around the table. Instead to being where his wife and son are, John stayed close behind Paul near the back of the crowd.

“Alright gather round we’re about to begin!” Cynthia announced.

“We start tour next week, how about you sleep in my room this time?” John whispered. That send chills down Paul’s back. He turned to face John.

“ _ Happy birthday to you… _ ”

“I don’t think we should.”

“ _ Happy birthday to you… _ ”

“Come on, Paul.” John began to crawl his hand up Paul’s arm again, slowly this time. Waiting for Paul to object. He didn’t.

“ _ Happy birthday dear Julian… _ ”

John brought his hand to Paul cheek and caressed it with his thumb. A touch Paul thought he’d never experienced again. He leaned into John’s hand.

“ _ Happy birthday to you! _ ”

Suddenly Paul snaps out of it. He moves back, then runs past the older boy. Into the back of the house, then to the dark backyard. He needed to breathe, how does John do it? How does he reel Paul in every time?

“Macca, why’d you run?” John caught up to him.

“Stay back. Get away from me!”

“Paul calm down-” John reaches for Paul shoulder and gets his hand smacked by the other boy.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t do that  _ thing _ ! You can’t just do that and expect everything to be okay, it doesn’t work that way!”

“How else am I supposed to show you that I love you? This was our thing remember? I don’t do this to Cynthia, I don’t even do it to my son!” John steps closer to Paul. “I missed you so much, too much. Please Paul just let me… let me…”

They stared at each other both having a sad look on their faces, and then tears arose, and they both found themselves crying.

“You love me?” Paul hiccuped, tears rolling down with the same quietness. John sighed and walked a little closer to Paul. He felt an urge to do something, for John, and for himself. And in a moment Paul pressed his lips against John’s. He felt his body loosen and arms touch John's shoulders. John chuckled beneath the salty tears.

“Always have.”


	5. We're Going To A Party Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul's birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read this first please :)
> 
> I decided to post this now, because I know I won't be able to post it later so, there's that. I'm fully aware that the infamous fight that happened at Paul's 21st birthday happened in 1963. But I wanted to post a chapter about Paul's birthday, on his birthday, and that event was the only thing on my mind. It all ties in together at the end of the chapter anyway. There is some talk about James Bond's movie Goldfinger so... spoiler alert I guess? I read somewhere that George really liked James Bond so, I added that in too.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter! Enjoy!
> 
> And happy birthday Paul! :)

The bright sunshine peeking through the windows made Paul wake up. He blinked his eyes and smiled. He turns 22 today. He giggles to himself as he rolls over to see a sleeping John. He brings his hands to his face and gently brushed his hair out of the way, making John stirr awake.

“M’up.” John mumbles, barely coherent.

“Make me breaky.” Paul whines.

“Make it yourself.”

“It’s my birthday.” Paul gives a light pinch to John’s cheek and John silently says goodbye to the idea of any more sleep with an exhale. He rolls over to look at the clock and groans. 9am.

“Why, Paul. Whyyy.” He groans.

Paul giggles. “Because you love me.” Then he starts to drag John out of bed, ignoring his grumbling. They go downstairs to the kitchen and he watches as John wanders around picking up things to make breakfast. John never cooks he only knows toast or cereal, so that’s what Paul’s getting. John plonks the pathetic-looking breakfast down in front of them. Toast with nothing on it. because they don’t have anything to put on it, and tea with no milk because there isn’t any milk left.

“Mmm, the perfect breakfast.” Paul says sarcastically.

“Anything for me princess.” John pulls out a chair for him to sit in. “Why do you have me up so early in the morning? It’s an off day.”

“Because I want to spend as much time with you before my party. You know we’ll have to be with other people by then right?”

“Right.”

“And in the meantime we could do anything.”

“Anything indeed.” John winks.

Paul chuckles and takes a bite of the bare toast. “Got a song for me Johnny?”

John takes a sip from his coffee. “Not right now, you?”

“I just have the cords, no lyrics yet.”

“Well let’s take it easy then, and, I don’t know, go back to sleep?”

“Fine, fine.” They finish up breakfast and go back upstairs. Once both in bed John grabs Paul’s wrist.

“You never take that thing off do you?” John smiles.

“Never.”

John then leans back and spider crawls his hand to Pauls balled up fist and stops. He does it again and stops. He’s not going up his arm like he used to. Paul looks at him confused. “I can’t do it all the time. You have to finish it.”

Paul looks down at his bracelet hand and brings it to his left hand, then crawls it up to his shoulder.

“There you go!” John tackles Paul into the bed and they were both laughing in their own world. Eventually the two had to part. John went back to his home and Paul stays in his. He makes calls arranging the cake, balloons, and guests attending. He goes out to pick up the suit he’ll be wearing and heads to his Aunt Gin’s house.

“When will the party end?”

“Hopefully at 12.”

“Don’t make a mess of things!”

“I won’t aunty.” Aunt Gin hands Paul the keys to the house. Paul  would have it at his but he didn’t know much of the people going and if they would remember where he lived so it was best to have it somewhere else. And Aunt Gin’s house is much bigger than his.

“Happy birthday my dear.” They both embraced in a hug and she leaves.

“See you in two days.” Paul calls after her.

 

People started to show around 9, and they cut the cake later into the night. Live entertainment was great. The music made people twist and spin around. He couldn't count how many times he had stepped on other people’s feet. Still he smiled brightly as his boots clicked all over the floor. He saw John arrive a little later, already drunk. Paul kept his distance because he knew anything could set him off. So he stuck with his fellow Beatles, his brother, and Jane. Paul kissed Jane goodbye at 10 because she had to go to set early the next day. Paul, George, and Ringo were in the kitchen now talking about the recent movies they watched while they were on tour.

“I don’t understand…”

“Oh here we go, tell us George what you don’t understand.” Ringo said disinterested.

“How can a villain like Goldfinger, kill someone by using goldpaint like… it’s just not realistic.”

“It’s James Bond we’re talking about, nothing about that spy movie is realistic.” Paul rolled his eyes and sipped his beer.

“But with gold paint-”

“Bond said himself she died of skin  _ asph-yxi-a-tion _ .” Paul tried his best to pronounce every syllable correct. “And that’s real thing so…”

“John will back me up on this, where is he anyway?”

“I last saw him in the front yard, I’ll go get him.” Ringo hopped off his stool and went to fetch John.

“Anyway it was expected, like you expect to betray your boss and continue living life with Bond, like she had it coming.”

“I suppose your right on that Paul.” George went to clink his beer with Paul’s. Then commotion began to fill the house very quickly. It grew louder and louder. Ringo rushed back into the kitchen. The music stopped.

“John’s in a fight!” Ringo yelled. Paul and George quickly exchanged looks and rushed to the front yard. Paul witnessed John knock Bob Wooler to the ground. He was already bloody as is. Paul and George grabbed a hold of John’s arms and tried to restrict him to the ground. A crowd of shocked faces formed. Cynthia was in tears looking away.

“You monster!” She called.

Ringo was on his knees, shouting at someone to get Brian as he moved Bob to his back. John kicked and squirmed to get out of the lockss of Paul and George.

Ringo looked back. “John what has gotten over you?!” 

“HE CALLED ME A BLOODY QUEER!”

“John you sod, stop moving!” George groaned.

“Are you seriously picking a fight at my aunt’s house?! On my birthday?! Do you have any respect?!” Paul tried his hardest to keep John still, but John still had some fight in him.

“HE STARTED IT!”

Soon Brian pushed his way through the crowd. “Ringo help me carry him to my car!” Paul watched them carry a bloody broken man to the car. Paul looked around everywhere. He watched as his party quickly end in a horrible way.

“All right party’s over! Go home! Nothing to see here!” Mike shoo’d people away from the scene.

“Mike please bring Cyn home?” Paul asked.

Mike nodded and motioned a crying Cynthia to her car. Paul looked down at John, he passed out. George and him dragged the heavy sleeping body to the upstairs bathroom and put him in the tub. Then Paul took over. He opened the shower and sprayed cold water all over the drunk man with his clothes on and everything.

“What the-”

“Shut the fuck up and get sober. So I can get you out of this fucking house.” Paul stomped away. George followed. There was nothing else left but bottles, glasses, leftover cake, and the band packing up. Paul watched as they finished.

“You know you don’t have to pay us, you had a tough night already.” The lead singer said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it's no skin off our back.”

“Drive safe.” The band walked off and Paul went to the kitchen and began to clean up.

“Nice house party, eh?” George said, putting the champagne glasses in the sink.

Paul chuckled. “It’s not even my house.”

“He’ll sober up soon enough.”

Paul sighed. “It started out so good too. He was doing so good. What made him snap?”

“That wasn’t John out there, we know that. Maybe if you went over and did your hand thing he could have chilled out.”

Paul froze. “What hand thing?”

“Oh come on Paul, the hand thing you two do. You two did it after our Royal Variety performance, our train trip to Washington, Julian’s birthday… You lot aren't not really discreet about it.”

Paul set the two beer bottles on the counter and went down to the floor, back resting on the lower cabinets. “Just when I think this night couldn't get any worse…”

George got down to his level and sat next to him. “I wasn’t supposed to know about that huh?”

“No you weren't.”

“Oh… so you and John are-”

“Yep. Please don’t-”

“I won’t.”

It was silent. Paul sighed again. George looked at his watch. “It’s not even 12 yet.”

They both chuckle. Paul rested his head on George’s shoulder. “What was that thing John said? ‘It’s not a party until I ruin it.’”

“Could be a hit.”

“Yeah, it definitely has potential.”


	6. The Night We Cried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What about the night we cried?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read me ! :)
> 
> I AM SO SORRY I LEFT Y'ALL FOR THREE DAYS! I needed to get out and experience some things to get my creative juices flowing because sis, after that chapter, I had nothing. So yesterday, I went to a birthday party, had a couple drinks and a situation at this party gave me an idea so I started planning this chapter once I got home. Wanna know what it was? It's in the toilet part lol! My best friend got so drunk that she spoke to the toilet. And so Paul in this chapter speaks to a toilet! This misspelling in this chapter is intentional trust me. And I know Here, There, and Everywhere was written in like 1966 BUT the part will be cute once you read it. One last thing, this chapter is kinda sad, don't hate me too much!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

The inky darkness was like a blanket across the entire Key West. The Beatles were originally going to have a rest day in Jacksonville Florida but decided to stay in the Key West until Hurricane Dora passed. Lightning bursts on the streets, and steadily made its way to where they were staying. Sometimes the flashing bolts of energy seem to stand still for a moment. Paul hated storms, he hated thunder and lightning. It still terrifies him as an adult. There was a trick that an American drummer told them when they were in New York. ‘After a flash of lightning, count the number of seconds until you hear the thunder. Every five seconds, the storm is one mile away.’ A flash of light blinks throughout the window. He ought to give it a go.

“One Mississippi… two Mississippi… three Mississippi-” then came explosions of thunder. The noise level became so intense that it rattled picture windows. That made Paul quickly cover his ears and shut his eyes. He waited it for it to be over. He was alone. He had no one to hold onto. Once the thunder quieted he released himself from the ball he was in and flopped on his back. He looked down at the tub faucet dripping water onto his foot, then at the half empty vodka bottle. He sighed.

“McCartney you’ve hit an all time low. I mean, look at you. Curling into a ball over some thunder… If Da could see you right now…” Paul reached for the vodka bottle to shut himself up. He took three quick gulps. The sting made him clench his fist. He hated it but at the same time he didn’t mind.

He squinted at the toilet. The lid was up and the two balls from the lid looked like eyes. “What are you looking at? Never seen a man take a bath in an empty tub before?”

The toilet stared back, saying nothing.

“That’s what I thought.”

Someone knocked on his door. Paul sluggishly attempted to stand, which he did, but when he took his first step everything went all dizzy. He eventually went to the door and opened it. John was leaned up against the door frame with a bottle of his own. Paul and John weren't all that close after his birthday, and after George and eventually Ringo finding out about their little thing, their bond just faded a little thinner after that.

“S’that vodka?” John clinked his bottle with Paul’s.

“Rum?” Paul pointed at John’s bottle.

They exchanged a look, then switched bottles. Paul let his door widen a little bigger so John can come in. “Where ‘ave you been?” He asked.

“Downstairs, that’s where everybody is. Chatting to the staff, drinking. Where ‘ave you been?” John looked for something to lean against. He was losing his balance very quickly.

Paul sat on the wide bay window, looking down at the flooded streets. “My comfy little tub.”

John sat across from Paul. “That’s depressing.”

“Well I am a depressed man at the moment.” Another loud crash rattled through the window, causing Paul to look away and tremble. Once that was over the wind whistled through the room sounding like howling hounds. The both of them didn’t speak. It could be the awkwardness or the fear between them causing it. They drink in silence, hoping that a conversation starter lies at the bottom of their bottles. Without speaking they both individually went to the bar for another bottle when they finished. They both returned to their spots and started the next bottle. And so the night drags on. Few words exchanged between them. And the words that are spoken were becoming slurred and senseless.

“Why are ya sad?”

“Huh?”

“Before you say you were sad. Why?”

Paul shrugged. “Cause I am.”

“Thas not _suff-ici-ent_.” John shook his head.

“I jus miss her man. Me mum. I miss her everyday, but today, I miss her like a lot. I had dis dream where I wus sleepen and she wus next to me.”

“I miss me mum too. Thas crazy.”

“Wuz crazy?”

“Tha we bof ‘ave dead mums, thas wut.” John took a swig of his vodka.

“Do ya- do ya fink thas why we get on so well? Like dis is some destiny ting?”

“Like solemates?”

“Yeah. In a- in a weird mum way?”

“Maybe… maybe…”

Paul looked down at his bottle and smiled. “‘Ey would be _so_ proud of us John. So proud.”

John did the same but frowned. “I jus don understand…”

“Tell us.”

“Mimi told me tha day mum passed, God luvs us. If dis big man in the sky luvs us so much, why take tha ones we luv?”

Paul started to play with the cap to the bottle. “My Da said somefing about how mums time was short wus cause she meant to have one.”

“Wut? A short life?”

“Yeah, and big guy is tha one to blame I guess.”

“S’not fair. Bad tings ‘appen to good people.”

“We’re good people…”

John tsked. “I’m not good people. Me mum wus a good people. Talented. Smart. A good mum. And wut am I?”

“You’re a musician. Singer. Poet. Father. Husband.”

“Barely. Come on Paul. Admit it. I suck.”

“I won’t.”

“Ya will. I go home to a wife who knows I cheat. I ‘ave a son who’s scared of me. I almost killt someone wif me bare hands! He wus our mate! Why did I do tha?!” Tears began to stream down John’s face. Paul couldn’t say anything. “I ‘urt ya too many times… My mum ‘urt nobody. I shuld be da one-”

“No. No. _NO!_ I know wut your gonna say and s’not true. Look at us man. We’re liven our best times right now. The most _succ-ess-ful_ band of all time is staying in tha Key West in tha middle of a tour. Dis is wut we wanted since we were kids, John! Maybe big man in the sky wanted dis to ‘appen?”

John just stared at Paul and leaned his head forward. He let his head rest against Paul’s shoulder. Paul soon brought his arms together and hugged the crying boy before crying himself. As Paul stroked John’s hair his breathing slowed. Then he began to hum the tune of a song he wrote recently. John’s tears had stopped, leaving only wet tracks down his face.

“ _To lead a better life, I need my love to be here…_ ” And Paul continued to hum, mainly because he hadn’t had the lyrics yet, but he did have some. “ _I will be there, and everywhere. Here, there, and everywhere…_ ”

 

The night was now early morning. One in the morning to be exact. The boys sobered up a little, enough to actually formulate sentences. But they still had to sit down or else they would be on the ground. They had their backs against the bay window and their legs stretched enough that their feet were barely touching. The bottles are down at the floor and the storm finally stopped.

“Some night.” John chuckled. His face was still puffy and red, so was Paul’s.

“I ain't over yet, mate.”

John moved slowly enough to cross his legs and sit up. He scooted closer to Paul. Paul did the same. Now their facing each other like they always did many years ago. “Sorry for your birthday, I know I never apologized for that so I’m doing that now.”

“It’s okay John, that day is long gone.” They both shared a laugh.

“I wish I could feel like this all the time. Is that bad?”

“Well you are an emotional drunk.”

“I wish that wasn’t true.” John and Paul shared a smile as they both looked down at the street below. John’s smile fell quickly. “I’m not gonna live as long as you Paul.”

Paul looked at John with sad eyes. “Stop that.”

“I will you know. If I am this good person like you said, I’m next then right?”

“I’m one too. I’ll die too.” Tears returned to Paul’s eyes and they fell quickly.

“No, Paul you’re different. You’re talent will be remembered for generations. You might as well be the only Beatle standing. I just have a feeling I won’t make it to see my grandchildren. At least I’ll be with Julia then, eh?” John brought Paul closer. His hand crawled up Paul's arm slowly. More tears spill down Paul’s face. The muscles of his chin trembles like a small child as he looks toward the window. John wiped the tears away. “Are you gonna miss me when I’m gone?”

“So much.”

“I’m still here though, am I?”

Paul rests his head on John’s shoulder. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Will you promise to love me, no matter what?”

“I promise.”


	7. Bigger Than The Messiah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John apologizes for his Jesus comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I left y'all hanging for like a week. I've had a shitty week and I didn't have time to update. But that's life right? Here is the new chapter lovies. Enjoy. :)

They sit knee deep in silence. The faucet drips into the sink, yet no-one blinks or moves to stop it. Outside there is no traffic or birds singing, there is no sound in the hotel room yet everyone is moving, moving and not talking. Brian briskly walks back and forth by the front window. John sits alone in a chair with his head in his hands. Paul sits with a newspaper in front of him but he’s too nervous to read. George is next to him, foot tapping up and down like a wind up toy. Ringo is next to George, nervously biting his nails as he read fan mail. In the next five minutes the phone will ring… or it won't. If it rings then the press accepted the interview, if not, then they have to cancel a show and move on to the next city. The U.S. tour was promised to be great, but it’s starting off terribly.  “Christianity will go. It will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue about that. I’m right and I’ll be proved right. We’re more popular than Jesus now. I don’t know which will go first, rock ‘n’ roll or Christianity.” A quote so misconstrued it made tensions rise.  

The next day the comment had little response in Britain. A reporter stopped The Beatles and asked John a question, “Now this religious controversy, I know you don't want to say too much about it, but does it worry you that it's going to boil up when you get to the states?”

“Well it worries me yes, but I hope everything'll be alright in the end as they say.” John answered.

“Do you think this is going to be a controversial tour like the Philippines was?” The Philippines controversy was on a whole different level, he hoped it doesn’t end up like that. Just thinking about it made John’s eye twitch. You couldn’t see it with his sunglasses but it happened. Paul knew John didn’t want to answer that so he took over.

“Oh no no, no it's gonna be fine.”

“What makes you say that, Paul?”

“Oh, it’ll be fine you watch.”

John was nervous enough going on that tour, but there was Paul, taking no prisoners, and just smugly declaring ‘Oh no, no it’ll be absolutely fine, just you  _ fucking _ watch’. John is so glad that he has a best mate like Paul. As they were walking off, John nudged Paul and said, “Thank you.”

But it didn’t die down in the states. Alabama DJs to church leaders, misunderstood that Lennon was claiming his band was superior to Jesus. Certain southern radio stations refused to play Beatles songs, church groups organized bonfires of Beatles records and the band received countless death threats. Then anti-Beatles rallies had been held in Spain, Mexico and South Africa. Pretty much the whole world knew about the situation and they were fearing for their lives. If the press says yes, John would have a chance to apologize.

“Oh look, I’m decapitated again.” Ringo through down the drawing.

Paul sighed. “Ringo…”

“Oh look, I’ve been impaled.” George pointed to the drawing.

Paul ruffled his hair in frustration. “Would you two cut it out?”

“Paul we can’t just drop this. These are real people sending in this that could actually happen if we’re not careful.” Ringo reclined back and pinched his nose bridge.

“John, we’re really in it now.” George said, annoyingly.

“How was I supposed to know Americans would make this such a big deal? How ironic that their defending their lord by using death threats, wasn’t he all about peace?”

Brian stopped walking. “John, you are the last person to be joking about this.”

“You know me Eppy, ‘funny Beatle makes a joke out of everything’.” John stood up to face the man.

“Take this seriously John! Or you will forever be the man who said ‘We're better than Jesus’! Think about what the fans will-'

“I didn't say that! If I could go back in time and stop me from saying such a  _ hurtful _ thing to make everyone feel better, I will! But I can't! You don't think I regret what I said?! All my mail is fucking death threats! ‘ _ Go to hell John! _ ', ' _ Go die fat-ass! _ ' They still haven't let go the fat Beatle!”

The phone rang and the room quickly hushed. Brian quickly answered the phone. “Hello?... Yes… Okay 3:00?... Okay, good day.” Brian hung up the phone and glared at John. “I hope you have an apology ready.”

“Wait, you’re not going to help me?”

“I said my peace, they don’t want to hear me. This is all on you.”

“No, no, NO! I can’t do this by myself, there’s enough pressure on me!” Tears escaped John’s eyes in a hurry.

Brian began to leave. “I think you’re old enough to do this on your own.”

“No! Y-you're s-supposed to h-help me! D-don't leave!” John was hysterical now, on his knees, pleading.

“Brian you can’t just leave!” Ringo chased after the man, George followed. Paul ran to John’s side rubbing his back and taking him in closely.

“Paul, I don’t t-think I can d-do this.”

“Yes you can, I’ll help you. We’ll get through this.”

“What if they don’t b-buy it?”

“Then we’ll have to power through this tour.”

“How am I gonna get through this?”

“I’m still here, John. I’m right here next to you. We will get through this together because that’s what we always did.” Paul’s hand crawled to John’s hand and stopped, then he did it again and stopped. “You have to finish it remember?”

John chuckled and finished the hand thing. “What would I be without you?” John kissed Paul’s cheek.

Like planned they went to the place and did the press conference and when asked if john was going to apologize, John said, “I’m not anti-Christ or anti-religion or anti-God, I’m not saying we’re better or greater, or comparing us with Jesus Christ as a person, or God as a thing or whatever it is. I just said what I said and was wrong, or was taken wrong, and now it’s all this. If I’d have said television is more popular than Jesus, I might have got away with it, In reference to England, we meant more to kids than Jesus did, or religion at that time. I wasn’t knocking it or putting it down I was just saying it as a fact and it’s true more for England than here. If you want me to apologize than I will. I’m sorry.”


	8. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John accidentally takes LSD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! decided to post again to make up for not posting in a while. Enjoy! :)

Happy is what Paul feels when John walks in the door, and he knows for the rest of the evening John's all his. It's not all the time that he's fireworks and chatter; sometimes he's quiet, unwinding after a long day. Just being near him lights Paul up inside, It's like the breath he takes aren't full when John's away, like the smiles he smiles are incomplete. Just writing next to John is Paul’s favorite part in his day. So Paul was a little bummed when John didn’t come into the studio like planned.

“He’s going to be here Paul, he has to. Everybody has a schedule.” George patted Paul's back. Paul turned to face him.

“How’d you know I was worrying about john?”

“Because when you’re away from him for too long, you get this look on your face. Like a sad puppy.”

Paul watched as George went over to pick up his guitar and strum a couple of cords. Paul walked closer. “So I’ve been thinking, this album yeah?”

“Yes, that’s what we’re doing.”

“Let’s not make a ‘Beatles’ album.”

George squinted at Paul. “You lost me.”

“Like the music we’re doing doesn’t really sound like a Beatles record, so let's just name it something else.”

“Change the name of the band?”

“Just for this record. We’ll give ourselves fake names too, like we used to when we were on tour remember?”

“Okay…”

“We can get full experimental with this one, it’ll be fun!” Paul nudged George

“Alright, alright you got me.”

“Say, where’s Ringo?”

“He went home early remember, he did his drum parts in the beginning. You wouldn't know because you were worrying over Johnny.” George mocked and poked Paul. Paul swatted his hand away laughing.

“Alright, what did I miss?” John announced, walking down the stairs. Paul noticed John was a bit sluggish when he reached him.

“You alright?”

“Tired. Anyway, what did I miss?”

“Nothing much, Ringo did his drumming and left and  _ this one _ .” George pointed at Paul. “Missed you terribly.”

“Okay. You’re making it seem like I couldn't live without him, calm it down a bit.”

“It’s okay Paulie my princess, I’m here.” John walked away setting his bag down. “Just let me take this upper and we’ll get going.

After ten minutes of overdubs of the song ‘Getting Better’ John began to feel unwell. Paul and George were the first to notice because John stepped away from the microphone.

“What’s wrong John?” Paul asked.

“Sorry, it's just, I got a little confused. Did you move the mic?”

“No?”

“Oh, well I thought it did, let’s continue.”

After 30 minutes they decided to take a little break. Paul was chatting with George and John was sitting by the corner.

“John are you okay?” George Martin called through the mixing booth.

“No.” That made Paul and George turn to John.

“You don’t feel good?”

“No. I feel strange. Things are moving and-” He never finished his sentence. He stared at the same microphone he thought had moved.

“We should get you some air. Can you make it to the stairs?”

“I think.” John stood up slowly and made his way to the stairs, slowly getting the hang of his walking pattern. Once he was upstairs, Paul turned to George.

“What’s up with him?”

“He didn’t eat anything weird when he was here, did he? Wait. Check what he took, in his bag.”

Paul went through the bag and ford the little compartment that held John’s pills. He sighed. “You will not believe this.”

“What?”

Paul turned around to reveal two pills. One was pink and one was purple, they were both the same shape.

“That one looks familiar.” George pointed to the purple one.

“Yeah, that’s what he took. LSD. He was supposed to take the pink one!”

John and George Martin both walked down to where they were. John was a little sweaty and breathing faster than before.

“There’s something I ought to tell you both.” George Martin said.

“Yeah, I think we know.” George replied.

Nonetheless they continued to try to finish the song, just without John. Paul maid sure to check on John in between takes. They called it a night once John started to profess his love to the microphone he thought had moved. Paul offered to make John rest at his home because he’s not at the state to return home to his wife and kid.

 

John collapsed face first into Paul's couch and moaned about how soft it was. Paul’s glad Jane isn’t home to see this mess. He called Cynthia to let her know about the situation before returning to the euphoric man. He was on the floor now, looking up at the ceiling and humming.

“ _ Lucy in the sky with diamonds… Lucy in the sky with diamonds… _ ”

“Who’s Lucy?”

“This girl Julian drew today, before I left for the studio. She had bright blonde hair and had on a red leotard with yellow polka dots.”

“She sounds divine.”

“She is.” John looked at Paul then crawled closer. He brought his hands to his cheeks and stared directly in his eyes. “Woah! Paul you’re eyes the're-”

“Hazel?”

“Beautiful! Oh such bright colors! Pink, blue, orange, and green! I wish you can see it! They’re like kaleidoscopes!” John giggled at the sight.

Paul turned to look at the compartment on the table, carrying the last LSD pill. He reached over and took it. He had never taken the drug before, he’s been to scared to. But John it communicating something he can’t understand and he needs to be there for him in case this trip goes south. He closed his eyes and swallowed the pill dry.

“Woah Paulie, you sure you made the right choice? LSD’s a hell of a drug.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll be okay.”

John caught something in midair and dropped it on Paul’s hand. There’s nothing there. “There’s a spider on your hand. Look it’s crawling up your arm now!”

Paul smiled. Even at his drug enhanced mind, John still did the thing.


	9. Death And All His Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find out about Brian's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This chapter gets a bit deep. It's a short one sorry, but it's still good I hope. It was actually kinda hard for me to write this because I have a hard time taking about the other side of life you know? Anyway here it is. Enjoy! :)

Death wasn't kind. It’s never kind. John knows that. It snatches the people who were far too young, far too good. It doesn’t pretend to care, it doesn’t pretend to apologize. Death had hung over his world for a long time, always teasing, but it never touched John, yet. Now, Death had ripped away another person. A person that was loved. Now John would sit staring at nothing for hours. His sunken face and haunted mind would be cold and empty. This would go on for weeks. It was like that for his uncle George, his mother Julia, his best friend Stuart, and now- Brian. John didn’t understand, but then again he wasn’t surprised because random deaths were not unfamiliar to him. He rested his head on the train window and rested his eyes. He couldn’t sleep. The band found out when they were about to leave Wales from meeting the Maharishi. On the way back, there was nothing else to talk about except Brian’s death.

“I don’t understand… He was doing fine, wasn’t he?” George asked.

“He was fine at the studio…” Paul replied.

Ringo sighed. “He looked tired…”

George shook his head. “But he was smiling.”

“Depression wears a mask…” Ringo sits back and blinks his tears away.

“I don’t think he meant to kill himself.” Paul crossed his arms.

“Why say that?” George did the same.

“Because they said he had sleeping pills with him. Maybe he took too much? Maybe this is all a freak accident.”

They were all silent for some time. They were thinking of something to say but couldn't think of anything else, accept the obvious question.

“What’s gonna happen? To us? The band?”

“Rings, we’ll be fine… We can find a new manager.” Paul leaned back and glanced at John.

“Do we even need one? I mean, we’ve been doing our own thing for a while.” George shrugged.

John chuckled to himself. The three turn to him. “Why be so positive when you know it’s the beginning of an end?”

“Huh?” Ringo pulled a confused face.

“Brian’s dead and you lot are already talking about replacing him.”

George reached across to try to hold John’s hand “John-”

John smacked the hand away. “Brian can’t be replaced.”

“John we know it’s just, we all have a different way of facing grief you know?” Paul sniffled.

“Of course I do. I know grief too well.” John stood up. “I’m tired of hearing you guys speak. I’m off.”

The three watched as he left then they looked at each other with sad eyes.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Paul offered.

 

Paul found John in the far back of the train, where all the luggage is. It was dark. Paul smiled at the memory of when they filmed A Hard Day's Night on a train. “John?... Come on, I want to talk to you.”

“Go away.” John said from behind a stack of luggage. Paul soon joined him.

“What’s going on in there?” Paul tapped John’s forehead.

“ They say a man who lives fully is not afraid of death, yeah? I haven't lived fully, but I’m not afraid of death. Not anymore at least. But I can’t help to think where I would end up? Where will I go, when I go? Will I be a ghost, or sleep forever? Will I go to Heaven or Hell? Buried or Cremated? Or do I turn into a star, like Mum said?” 

“I don’t have all the answers John, only the future knows that. But I do know, all the ones who left are at a better place. And they know that they’re missed terribly.”

“I wonder when my times gonna be up.” John lowered his head.

Paul placed his hand on John’s then crawled it up his arm. He then wiped John’s tear away and caressed his cheek. “John, if you keep living your life thinking your gonna die any second, you’re not gonna want to live your life the way you want it to go. And I hate it when you put yourself down like this. John, your time will come.  Not today, tomorrow, or next week, that I know. We still got a lot to work to do, together.”

“You always know what to say.”

“I learnt from the best.”

John began to cry. “I miss him so much...”

Paul hugged John tightly. “I know. Me too.


	10. Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul finds out about Yoko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel terrible for leaving y'all hanging. (Again). I'm not just procrastinating on this, I've been like this for everything :/. But once I saw that there's over 1,000 hits, I could waste another day, so here's the new chapter, from me to you. :)

The large man, wearing all white, was sprawling in the large white arm-chair. The soft faint-light fell on his shaggy, long, salt and pepper hair. His chin was perched up but you couldn’t tell by the long grey beard in which every strand stood distinct like spun elastic. He seemed to be sunk in stern, prophet-like meditation. But really the Maharishi was asleep. Paul peaked around, the others seem to be deep in meditation. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but he really wishes he was home. This experience has been great but the more he “meditates” the more ideas he has for new songs. There's no paper where they're at, except for toilet paper and letters sent to them from home, so no writing. He did manage to get a pencil from town when they went to get food. Paul looked to his left. John looked very at peace, he even had a smile on his face. Paul reached over to John’s hand and spider crawled over his hand.

“ _ Psst. _ ” Paul whispered.

John opened one eye. “ _ What? _ ”

“ _ Wanna come and get paper with me? _ ”

“ _ Paul, they just stocked the bathroom with- _ ”

“ _ Not that paper- you know what I mean john, own up. _ ” Paul harshly whispered.

“ _ Alright, alright. _ ”

The both of them left without saying another word. Once they were walking down the forested path Paul smelled his white long sleeve. He pulled a disgusted face.

“It’s been that long huh?”

“I just made myself gag, what does that tell you?” 

They both shared a laugh. Paul reached for John’s hand and held it. John squeezed back. “When can we go back?”

“Go back?”

“Home.”

“We just got here.”

“We’ve been here for a month.”

John’s eyes went wide. “Has it been a month?”

“Yes! I miss the studio.”

“You have your guitar here, don’t you?”

“With nothing to write down.”

“You really want to go back to winter?”

“Ringo did.”

“Ringo left because he has a weak stomach. I’m surprised he lasted a week to be honest.”

Paul turned around to face John, not breaking their hand holding. “Come on, don’t you miss writing songs with me?”

“I do. But I love it here Paul! The heat, the people, the meditation. Don’t you like waking up to no problems or responsibilities?

“But we do have responsibilities. I have a dog at home that misses me, you have a son and wife that misses you, and this Apple thing we have to launch-”

John let go of Paul and picked up him pace a little. Not realizing something dropped. “Ugh. Don’t talk to me about wife's missing me when you brought Jane. And if I hear Apple one more time from you I’m gonna jump in the nearest river.”

“Sorry.” Paul picked up the paper from the dirt. “Hey you dropped this… Who’s Yoko?”

John stopped walking. “A friend.”

“A friend doesn’t draw a bunch of hearts all over a postcard.”

John snatched the postcard from Paul. “Some friends are affectionate like that.”

“Wait… Yoko’s that girl that asked for you at the gallery we went to. Are you having an affair?”

John stuffed the postcard back into his pocket and sighed. “Paul, don’t start when you know damn well what we’ve been doing. If you don’t like it, then take you girl and fly back to London.”

“What’s up with you? We haven’t fought for months and now your starting up again. You know I don’t like this version of you.”

“Then maybe I don’t like this version of you.”

“And what version is that?”

“The lonely, needy version, the judgy version- I mean fuck Paul, don’t you have Jane to cry to?!”

Blood was beginning to be spilled, and feelings were bound to be hurt. Paul sense this would be the beginning of the end but he didn’t pay attention to that. “You’re fucked up Lennon, you always have and always will be! If you wanna stay here and loose brain cells be my fucking guest! I’m going back home!”

“No one’s stopping you!” Another hit for the road. Paul huffed and turned back to the path leading back to the house. With tears streaming down his face, he stomped away.


	11. Hey Jules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul visits Cynthia and Julian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hardest part of writing these chapters is incorporating "the thing" in every chapter. It's harder than it looks lol. Thank you for being patent. Enjoy! :)

The house was welcoming from the open door to the wide hallway. Upon the walls were the photographs of the family, so happy. What once was filled with people is now empty and dull. As soon as John came home we went straight to Yoko, leaving Cynthia and Julian behind. Paul heard about this and came to visit. As he walked down the hallway he saw Julian sitting on the carpeted floor playing with his toy car. As he reached him he crouched down to look at him properly. The boy had been crying, cheeks were red and puffy. 

“Hey Jules.”

The little boy avoided looking at Paul and fiddled with a wheel. “Hey Uncle Paul.”

“Where’s your mum?”

“Upstairs. She’s sad.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’ll be right back, I just need to check on her okay?”

He nodded his head and proceeded to play with his car. As Paul went up the long winding steps me felt more and more bad for Julian. He’s only five and he already has to look over his mother. Cynthia was in the guest room, all the way at the end of the hallway. Paul gently pushed the door open. The room was really dark, the only source of light came from the windows. On the bed there was a lump of blankets and blonde hair peaked from the top. Paul sat beside her.

“Cyn?”

Paul watched as the lump slowly moved and roll over. “Paul?”

“How are you?”

Cynthia sat up. Bags were under her eyes and she spoke in a whisper. She must be losing her voice. “Tired.  _ Very tired _ .”

“I am so sorry Cynthia. John is a jerk for what he did to you.”

“Let him be a jerk. He always was one…” Cynthia’s angry look turned into a sad look. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m an idiot for thinking that I could ever tame him. You said it yourself, what I envisioned would never be John… Don’t take this the wrong way but I envy you. You got it all together with Jane.”

“Actually, we broke off the engagement. I wasn’t completely honest with her.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” The pit of guilt inside Paul began to grow. He inhaled.  “And I haven't been completely honest with you either. I have to tell you something... John and I are friends but when we truly needed each other we were more… Do you know what I mean?”

Cynthia took a moment to take that all in. Then she reached for Paul’s hand. “Yes… I feel like I have always known, since New York.”

“Oh.” Paul can finally breathe.

“But it’s okay, because you really helped him when he needed it. So did I.” She smiled. “Look at us both.”

They shared a smile, then a laugh, then a hug. They talked for a few more minutes, just about things changing. Paul promised Julian he’d be back so he went downstairs. The little boy had stopped playing with his car and buried his face into his little hands. Paul crouched by him again and laid his hand lightly on the kid’s shoulder. Julian flinched slightly then eased into Paul’s touch. Julian turned to look at Paul. His sad eyes were filled with tears. It took him back to a place when Paul would look at his mother the same way.

“Things are going to get difficult. But don’t make it bad. Just.. take a sad song and make it better y’know? Be there for your mummy.”

“What about daddy?”

“There’s gonna be a day when he needs you, just not today… Uh oh! Look what I got!” Paul make a fist as if he was holding something shut.

Julian perks up in excitement. “What is it? What is it!”

“It’s… The Tickle Spider!” Paul’s hand sprung into a “spider” and made is scurry up Julian’s arm. The little child screamed in glee and squirmed under Paul’s touch. Julian then hopped onto Paul, cursing him to lose balance. “Oh no! You got me!”

“I got you!”


	12. The Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul face each other on the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this pretty late because I've been working on this chapter all day. This will have to be my favorite chapter so far! Aaannnddd it goes pretty much downhill from here so brace yourselves... I'm the worst. Enjoy! :)

Paul didn’t know what to expect from this recording session. He and John haven’t spoken since India and there’s a side of Paul that doesn’t want any part of John being there. That made Paul feel bad because John was still his friend and friends make mistakes. Paul hopes John didn’t mean what he said in India. Paul walked down the steps of the studio to see George and Ringo already there. They were near the back silently talking amongst each other.

“Hey boys. All rested up? Ready to make an album?”

“All written up too. Richie wrote a song!” George put his arm around Ringo.

Paul smiled at Ringo. “Rings, you have a song?”

“It’s nothing really...”

“It’s nothing? Rings you wrote a full song. You’re first song!”

George nudged Paul. “That’s what I said!”

“Alright mum and dad…” Ringo pushed George away.

“Our Richie’s getting shy!”

They proceeded to joke around with each other and for once it felt like the old days. Not for long though. The studio door shut loudly and the three turned to see who walked in. Hand and hand, John and Yoko walked down the steps.

“Is this the girl?” George asked Paul. Paul nodded. Once the two reached them. John introduced Yoko to them as a "friend" and that she’ll be here as a collaborator. The three didn’t really say anything else. They walked off to their respective instruments. Paul to the piano, George to his guitar, and Ringo to his drums. They didn't look at her, they didn’t want to. They only know her as the girl who caused the divorce of John and Cynthia. Not only that but she’s not in the band. Why was she down here with them anyway? Paul began to play the tune of  _ Hey Jude _ . John walked over placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder and quickly crawled it down Paul’s back and asked, 

“Is that a new song I hear?”

Annoyance creeped up Paul’s back as he stopped playing to swat away at John’s hand. “Yes it is.”

John grabbed the sheet lyrics and quickly read through them all. “ _ Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better… Remember, to let her into her heart, then you can start, to make it better… _ ” What's this about?”

“I thought you hated it when people would put meanings in songs?” Paul annoyingly replied.

“I do. I just want to know because it’s beautifully written. It sounds like it came from the heart.”

Paul slowed the pace of the melody for just a moment, then stopped playing altogether. Paul knew what John was trying to do. He’s done it before. After they would fight, John would compliment Paul in the best way, whether be his looks, music ability, or songwriting and it would make Paul melt every time. It’s not going to work. “Thank you.”

Yoko joined John and grabbed his hand. Paul saw this and turned around to resume playing. “Are you going to sing for us?” Yoko asked.

Paul’s eye twitched and resumed playing. “ _ Hey Jude, don’t be afraid, you were made to, go out and get her… The minute, you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better… _ ”

Paul felt a strange feeling behind him. He quickly glanced around to see John and Yoko intentionally listening, very closely, near his shoulders. Something John used to do long ago. “Can you two back up?”

“You didn’t have a problem with that before.”

“Well now I do.” Paul got up to grab more paper. On his way back to the piano John sat on the bench.

Paul sighed. “John, get up.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not.”

“I think I’ve been your mate long enough to know when you are so come on. Let’s go outside.”

“Just you?”

John turned to Yoko, then back to Paul. “Just me.”

And so the two left the studio and when up to the roof. The weather was overcast and a bit chilly. It looked like it might rain. It’s just the two of them.

“I know you don’t see it now but, Yoko’s good for me. She understands me.”

Paul scoffed. “Does she?”

“Yes, she does. And I’m going to need you to stop being a horses ass and respect her.”

“I’ve been a horses ass?! That’s hilarious! Last time I checked I didn’t abandon my wife and son. I didn’t tell my best friend that he’s judgy and needy. You’ve been the horses ass. Not me.”

“I said that stuff and I’m sorry I hurt your feelings but it’s the truth. And I didn’t fucking abandon them I was there for them for years! Don’t put me as the bad guy because I want change! It’s like in your song, “ _ You have found her, now go and get her. _ ” Yoko is  _ her. _ ”

“Don’t reference my song for your  _ love. _ ”

“Then what the fuck is  _ Here, There, and Everywhere _ ?!”

“What the fuck is  _ If I Fell _ ?!”

The both of them fell silent. Wind blew between the both of them. It was cold. It made them have chills. But they didn’t react.

“What is this?” Paul stepped closer. “You’re throwing everything away. Are you seriously going to overlook everything with everyone you love? When are you going to face the fact that you’re terrified of being alone? Is that why we went to Paris after you and Cynthia had that big fight? Is that what I am to you? A binkie to suck on so you can feel better? Someone to escape with and use when you think your relationship will end? You kept doing this because you knew I wouldn’t leave you!”

John looked away, his long brown hair covered his face.

“Look at me, Lennon.”

John took a deep breath and turned back to Paul. A tear escaped his eye. “I can’t hold your hand anymore... I’m going back inside.”

Paul didn’t stop him. He watched John go. Paul fell onto his knees and broke down. He didn't break quietly, it was like every atom of him being screamed in unison, traumatized that he should exist without him. Paul cried as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of his every pore. From his mouth came a cry from so raw that he had to cover it so no one would check on him. He bent forward and rested his forehead on the cold roof. He remembers the night they cried. Paul pleaded for John to never leave him and John couldn’t promise that. But he did promise to love him no matter what. Paul slowly stood up and wiped his tears away. He looked up at the sky. It finally started to rain.


	13. No Sooner Looked But They Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and Linda get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I made y'all sad with the last chapter, (my bad), here's a happier one with a funny ending. Enjoy! :)

There’s a saying: When one door closes, another opens. Paul never took that to heart until recently. What door is it exactly?  He also didn’t believe in love at first sight until John but that changed so, where’s “The One” everyone seems to be getting? He never thought he’d say it, but he wants to settle down. So for once in his life he went out to clubs without making the first move. If this fate this is real, let it happen naturally. And it happened. It was just another night out then there she was, on the other side of the club. Their eyes kept meeting, someone had to go first, but Paul kept his word. Luckily her friends went over and they started chatting. He didn’t think he’d see her again but four days later they met again. At the launch party for Sgt Peppers. That was last year. Fate takes its time. Fast forward a year later on a trip to New York, Paul met up with her again and after spending the night, she was the one. Linda Eastman is the one. When one door closes, another opens.

A nudge to Paul’s ribs makes him jerk awake to see Linda's smiling face. Paul smiles back, a year later passes and he is still happy to see such a beautiful face every morning. 

“I have to tell you something.” She pokes his side. 

“Can I say mine first? I had a dream that I need to tell you about.”

“I suppose you can.” She sat herself closer to Paul as he sat up.

“Okay so we were in bed, just like this and Martha was barking at the mailman. So I went downstairs and the mailman was already gone, but on the floor there was this small envelope. It was baby pink. Then I started to open the envelope, but you woke me up!”

“ _ That’s _ what you needed to tell me?”

“Yeah, I mean, it could mean something… Okay, tell me yours now.”

“Alright, so remember a couple of months ago I felt nauseous and sometimes even spat up a couple of times?”

“Yes.”

“Well I went to the doctor to see what was going on and…”

“And… you had the flu?”

“No… Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘There’s a bun in the oven’?”

“No, is that an American thing?”

“I guess it is.” Linda sighed and grabbed Paul’s hand, then placed it on her stomach. “ _ There’s a bun in the oven. _ ”

Paul was puzzled. “A bun in the… Oh my God. Oh my God! Are you?!”

Linda rapidly nods “Yes!”

“Does that mean- I’m gonna be-”

“Yes!”

Paul peppered Linda in light kisses and her giggled as he crawled his hand down her arm and kissed her belly. Then all of a sudden he stopped and took Linda’s hand. “Marry me.”

"What?"

“Will you marry me?”

Linda raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Paul, you know my last relationship-”

“Yes I know but, I wanna be there for you and Heather and… Mary.”

“Mary?”

“It’ s gonna be a girl and I’d love for her name to be Mary." 

“How do you know it’s going to be a girl?”

“My dream remember?”

A fond smile grew on Linda’s face. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

Linda kissed Paul’s forehead. “Yes I’ll marry you!”

 

And so they wed on March with tons of heartbroken girls flooding the streets. Mike and Heather was there and Paul didn’t invite the other three. The next day they were packing for their honeymoon when they heard commotion outside. Linda looked at Paul and he shrugged it off. Then it got louder and Paul moved the blinds to see what was going on only to met face to face with John. He climbed over the wall and the balcony. Paul was shocked John was mad.

“What is this 1959?!”

“Let me the fuck in!” John propped his leg over the railing and Paul helped him get down. John stormed in their bedroom.

“So it’s bad when we don’t show up to a session but it’s fine when you do?!”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb McCartney!” John noticed Linda silently watching this all go down. “Hello Linda.”

“Hello…”

John turned back to Paul. “Mr Bossman doesn’t invite his mates to his wedding and doesn’t show up to a session, how mature!”

“You are the last person to be talking about what’s mature! John, I sent a telegram to the office to let you know I won’t be attending today because I am leaving to go on a  _ honeymoon _ ! You know like  _ newlyweds _ do? I’m guessing you didn’t get it?!”

“No, I got it. It’s just fucked up that you want to go on a honeymoon now when we’re supposed to be working!”

“Oh my God… John, get the fuck out!” Paul began to push John back towards the window.

“And me and Yoko- remember her?”

“Out! Through the window like you came in!”

“We’re getting married in Paris tomorrow!”

Paul pushed back John harder because John knew that mentioning Paris would get Paul mad. “Then I’ll send you a present!”

John went over the railing and Paul shut the window in a huff. He looked at Linda still in the same spot she was before.

“Sorry about that.”

“Jesus Christ, is he always like this?!”

“No, no. We just caught him in a bad mood.”


	14. Oh! Darling, If You Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John breaks up The Beatles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting today because this bitch is going to Six Flags tomorrow! This work is coming to an end so I just want to thank the beautiful people who keep coming back to read this! Your comments and kudos mean so much to me! Enjoy! :)

They hated him. They didn’t say it, but Paul knew. Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe one day they'll go “Sorry Paul, I didn’t mean that.” But that day is not today. They were far away from reconciliation. Paul felt more and more distant. He thought he was doing the right thing, bringing the band together to record one more album but he knew it would be the last. And Yoko was there, next to John, everyday. Sometimes he couldn’t get a word in. John would be too busy listening to the sweet nothings Yoko would whisper. But Paul tried to ignore her. Yes there were times when John brought a bed in the suido when she was sick and yes there was that time George went wild over her eating his biscuits but Paul tried to be the bigger person. Until one day. They were recording a song and Paul suggested for John to sing a little higher on the melody, which he had no problem with. But then Yoko tugged on John’s sleeve.

“I think you should sing lower.”

The studio hushed. Everybody knows not to mess with the process that was Lennon-McCartney.

Paul leaned back in disbelieve. He looked at George and Ringo, both not saying a word. He looked at John, he was unsure what to say.

“Fucking sorry?”

“I think John should-”

“No, I heard you. But… Pardon?” No one said a word. You can hear a pin drop. “Fuck me! Did somebody speak? Who the fuck was that? Did you say something George? Your lips didn’t move.” 

“Paul-” John warned.

“Who are you to put in such input? You can’t even fucking sing! What do you know about harmony, Mrs Screech?”

“Paul!”

“What? I’m saying what everybody is thinking!”

“I’m not thinking that.” John crossed his arms.

“Of course you wouldn't say it. You’re hiding behind her is what you’re doing. Are you going to sing the harmony or not?”

Sure, Paul was bullying Yoko a little bit, but in his mind what he said was well justified. He was just tired of it all. Watching John turn to her instead of him.

 

They needed somebody they could trust to look over their business. Allen Klein won them over but Paul was warned by Mick Jagger, of all people, to not go near him. So he didn’t. The others took the piss out of him for doing that. Saying that he was “Still mad that his father-in-law couldn't do it”. But Paul knew better. He faked his smile through the contract signing but never signed on the dotted line.

Paul was alone in the conference room when Allen Klein walked in. He tried to start a conversation with Paul but he ignored him. Allen walked up to wear Paul was sitting and got him to stand by the collar.

“Listen you snob! You might not like me now but I’ll win you over soon enough. Then you’ll sign my contract!”

“I’ll never sign your contract you daft git! Get off me!” Paul pushed the man away, then the double doors opened. John, George, and Ringo walked in.

“What’s going on?” Ringo asked.

Allen patted Paul’s shoulder. “Nothing, just having a simple conversation. Right Paul?”

Paul didn’t say anything. He fixed his collar and sat back down. The meeting went on for too long, they have all lost interest.

Ringo sighed. “I didn’t drive all the way here just to sign stuff, did I?”

“God, I am so bored of this.” George threw a contract down.

“Maybe if we toured again we wouldn’t be bored.” Paul suggested.

“What?”

“Come on, George-”

“We specifically agreed to never do that again.”

“And look where that landed us. We got nothing to promote. Nothing to do. We’re bored! You said it yourself! Touring’s good and it keeps us sharp. We need touring and musicians need to play. Keep touring live, y’know?”

“ _ I _ think you’re daft.” John stood up.

“John-”

“No, Allen, I’m saying it now. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I’m breaking the group up.” Everybody’s jaw dropped. “Don’t act surprised, we all knew this day would come. It feels good. It… It feels like a divroce.”

“Is this what you truly feel, John?” George asked.

“Yes. We’ve been broken up since ‘68 let’s be honest.”

“Well, let me be  _ honest _ .” Paul stood up. “We’ve worked so hard to make it this far and you’re just gonna dump us like this, when we still have enough power to keep going?”

“Paul, I’ve made up my mind. We’ve had a good run but it’s over. End of.” He left the conference room. Paul went after him, ignoring the other two’s pleads to stop.

“John!” Paul called after him. John turned around, his face was pale, his nice, warm, brown eyes were black. It wasn't the eyes that said I love you. The white hallway was blinding, but all Paul can see was John. He saw the same boy onstage back in ‘58. The same boy who cried for his mother to return. The same boy who he fell in love with. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I already told you. I can’t promise you that.”

“Of course you’ll leave. You always do!”

“Paul, you and I both know we can’t be together.”

Paul looked down. “Yeah, we can’t.”

“I’ll write to you. Maybe even invite you to a show.”

“John… Fuck you.”

“Paul-”

“Listen and listen good. If you walk out those doors… You will not come back to me again. Weather it be your problems, your love, your need, your sadness, your anger… You will  _ never _ come back to me again… Ever.”

And for once the sad brown eyes returned just for a moment. John took off his glasses. He didn’t clean them he just looked at them. “It’s only me, Paul.” he said. Barely a whisper. He put them back on and left. For once Paul didn’t cry. He felt a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders but that deep pit in his stomach stayed there. He knows he’ll never be the same. The door behind him opened it was Ringo.

“Where’d he go?”

Paul didn’t look back. “He’s gone.”

“You’ll see him again, Paul.”

Paul turned to face Ringo. “You don’t get it. He’s _gone._ _I’m free_.”


	15. The Nilsson Sessions: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John bump into each other after years to not speaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovies! I am sore all over but I couldn't miss another day! I decided to split this chapter into two parts. It's a short chapter but Part 2 will be up later on today! Enjoy!

John has become a silhouette, like he walked out of a photograph and left a shadow. He left Paul and he’s still hurting. Paul was fine the first week. To escape, he purchased a farm in Scotland. It was just him, Linda, and Mary. The second week, there is an ache that came and went, always returning in when he was alone. By the third week, he thought about the times when he would hold John close. That’s when he broke. He stopped bathing, shaving, then drank his nights away. Sometimes he would talk like John was there with him, maybe that was the alcohol in him. Paul was sprawled out in the tub, cradling a vodka bottle. He’s been here before.

“Look at you, Paul. Looking sad, sick, depressed. Wow. This is a new low. He left you. Why are you acting pathetic when he left you? Who could ever leave me? Okay that’s your ego talking… And that thing! That stupid thing he would go with his hand. Like that would solve everything!” Paul took a swig of the strong drink. He looked over at the toilet. “You again. I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that so you can piss off.”

The toilet didn’t say anything. Paul sighed. “Look what he’s done to you. If only I could go back to the early days when we would  talk and laugh like we once did. Maybe go on those little boats back in Liverpool, then go down to the graveyard and just… talk. But you’re gone… Why are you gone?”

Paul was like that for the remainder of the month until Linda talked some sense into him. Then little by little, he started living again. That pit in his stomach was slowly fading, but it was still there. It was like a constant reminder of what happened. So he wrote songs, it was the only thing that could reach John without actually talking to him. “ _ Too many people going underground, too many reaching for a piece of cake. Too many people pulled and pushed around, too many waiting for that lucky break. That was your first mistake, you took your lucky break and broke it in two. Now what can be done for you? You broke it in two. _ ” Paul would cheekily sing, knowing John would eventually hear.

_ “So Sgt. pepper took you by surprise, You better see right through that mother's eyes. Those freaks was right when they said you was dead, The one mistake you made was in your head. How do you sleep? Ah how do you sleep at night? _ ” John sang back. And Paul was so ready to write what he was really thinking. But Linda, god bless, talked him out of it. 

“This feud is already ugly as is. Just leave it as it is.”

“But did you hear that guitar solo? That was Harrison! John convinced him to be on the track! And they were the “peaceful” ones…”

“Paul…”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll drop it.”

And so he did. He dodged questions about John and moved on with his life and had another daughter, Stella. The years of fighting through songs has faded since the singers both decided to move on. It’s 1974 and Paul, with Linda, drove to Santa Monica to meet up with Harry Nilsson and Ringo to record a couple of songs. Harry greeted them at the door and let them in. In the studio was Ringo playing with a tambourine went Paul went over to him with wide arms and they embraced. Despite the bitter break up, Ringo was the first one Paul rekindled with and they’ve been fine ever since.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow?”

“I thought that too but you know me, always changing me mind!”

Ringo laughed nervously. “Well, maybe you should’ve called first. You see, there's this guest I’m not sure you want to see or not.”

“Who could that be?”

“Cheerio, cheerio! Off to the studio I go-” John stopped dead in his tracks.

Paul’s eyes widened and quickly turned around. The room hushed. Eyes darted between the two strangers.

John chuckled and tilted his head to the right. “Pyramus?”

Paul gulped. “Thisbe?”


	16. The Nilsson Sessions: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! I think there will be two more chapters after this, I'm not sure yet. Thank you for reading as always! Enjoy! :)

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the air. Unsettled eyes glanced around and tried to avoid catching other glances. Linda shifted uncomfortably in their seat and Ringo grasped his sweaty, nervous hands. Harry and a girl that came with John shuffled their feet against the carpeted floor.

Paul cleared his throat. “How are you?”

John adjusted his glasses. “Good… Have you met Ringo?”

“Yeah just did.”

“Good… Well, what are we standing around for? Let’s make music!” John walked over and picked up a tambourine. Paul looked over at Linda, she shrugged.

Paul had so many questions. What is John doing here? Where’s Yoko? He put on his best poker face and continued on working, making small talk with Harry and Ringo.

“You seem tense man.” Harry dug in his pocket and pulled out a clear bag with white power in it. “Wanna try it?”

“What is that?”

“PCP man!  _ Angel dust _ .”

“What does it do?”

“It puts you in the  _ zone _ .”

Ringo rolled his eyes. “It makes you hallucinate.”

“Is it fun?” Paul tilted his head to the side.

“No…”

“No thanks man, I tried the whole hallucinating thing and I got tired of it.”

“Your loss. I’ll be back.” 

“Be careful!” Ringo called after him.

“Is there anyone else coming?”

“Just a couple of friends. Oh, and Keith Moon, you know Keith?”

“Love Keith...” Paul slowly looked over his shoulder. John was chatting with Linda and the girl that came with John. “What happened to Yoko?”

“They’re separated at the moment.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Relationship troubles I guess. He’s having a tough time. He keeps calling her.

Paul looked back again. “Oh.”

“You’ve been busy from what I’ve seen. Going on tour with Wings and all that jazz.”

“You too! You and your movies _and all that jazz_.”

Ringo went over to the drums and began playing a familiar drum beat. 

“What’s this?”

“You don’t remember? Was it that long ago?” Ringo did it again and started humming as a hint. Soon Paul finally realized what he was playing.

“ _ Just let me hear some of that rock and roll music, any old way you choose it… _ ” Paul jokingly played his invisible bass.

_ “It's got a back beat, you can't lose it, any old time you use it… _ ” John began shaking a tambourine he was holding. Paul looked back unsure to sing along or not. He looked back at Ringo, he shrugged.

_ “It's gotta be rock and roll music, if you wanna dance with me. _ ”

“ _ If you wanna dance with me! _ ” John sang in his silly voice and Paul cracked a smile. John walked over to them now, Ringo had stopped playing by now. “You still got it McCartney.”

“Thanks. You too.” Paul tried to smile at him but it looked like a straight line than a curve. John nodded and went back to his seat.

 

They all did a couple of takes with Paul on the Bass and John on the guitar. As a break they all went to the pool. Linda spent most of her time with the girl that came with John. Paul laid down on his pool chair.

“Am I interrupting?”

Paul’s eyes shot open to see John looking down at him, adjusting his glasses, and  blocking the sun as he did so. He’s been here before. “No.” Paul answered.

John sat at the end and took off his hat to reveal the light brown hair Paul missed. “It’s bloody hot.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Paul!” Linda called.

“Yes darling?”

“Me and May were going to go inside and make some lemonade, do you want some?”

“Yes please!”

“Make that two if you can!” John called.

“Sure thing!”

The two women went inside, giggling about something. John smiled. “They hit it off. May was so nervous coming here.”

“So May’s her name?”

“Yeah, as me and mother are working things out, she’s keeping me company during my Lost Weekend.”

Paul gave a puzzled look. “Alright…”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just thought you and Yoko would be  _ forever _ .”

“We will be. We’re just in a weird place. My fault mainly. But y’know, when isn’t it my fault?”

Paul looked down. “Have you seen George yet?”

“I have. I was supposed to be in his concert for Bangladesh did you know that?”

“I didn’t. What happened?” Paul crossed his leg to make more room. John scooted closer.

“He said only I can perform and I said I wouldn’t perform without Yoko and we got in an argument. I might see him in L.A. though, to make amends. Have you seen him?”

“No not yet. I feel like he wouldn’t want to see me just yet.”

“But he does.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Shut up, no he didn’t.”

“He did y’know! When I saw him for rehearsals, he told me he wanted to see you and apologize for the whole break up thing and  _ Allen Klein _ .” John shivered at the name.

“Yeah I heard about that, I would say I told you so but…”

John chuckled. “Yeah I don’t need to hear it.”

“When you do see George, tell him I would love for us to meet up.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

Paul’s smile faltered. He looked down again. “But you’re not though.”

“What?”

“Lemonade!” The two women came back with freshly squeezed lemonade. The pulled up their own chairs.

 

The day went on and they spent most of their time talking than making music which was fine. Paul missed being in the studio with his two mates. He missed the friendly banter and for once he felt okay. He looked over a John and actually smiled at him then the pit in his stomach was aching. He needed to go. He needed air. Without alerting anyone he went out to the pool. The blue glow illuminated the night sky. He sat in a chair and took a couple of deep breaths. It would stop by then but it didn’t for some reason. He groaned in frustration.

“Paul, you alright?” It was John. 

Paul took another deep breath. “The time I last saw you, you were so horrible to me. And now you’re here, talking to me like nothing bad happened.”

“I wanted you to like me first.”

Paul stood up. “What’s going to happen after this? We’re going to be best mate again? Or are you going to shut me out again?”

“Paul-”

“Listen! You changed me in ways I will never be the same. Don’t you know that? When I’m apart from you it fucking hurts! It fucking hurt when you would drag me through the press-”

“I only did that because I was hurting too!”

“What?”

“I thought I was happy when it was all over, but after I made that stupid song, I took a good long look at my self in the mirror and I didn’t see myself. I was terrified of the man I became. I wrote you countless letters that I never sent. I remembered what you said. I walked right through those doors. You told me I couldn’t go back to you and… I’m so sorry Paul. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for causing you pain.” John wiped the tears from his eyes and took Paul by the arm. “I missed your arms. I missed your touch. I love you so much.”

Paul sniffled. “You do?”

“I do.”

Paul shook his head. “There’s still so much pain… So much resentment.”

“I know.”

Paul peaked John’s cheek ever so gently. “I love you too.”


	17. Here Today: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John speak on the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I titled the chapters, do you like the names? So my friend, this is the second to last chapter. I was going to make this the last chapter, but I hate ending things on an odd number so I split it in two. Enjoy! :)

Fate can be a good or bad thing. Fate brought John and Paul together. If Paul decided to leave the village fete early, he would’ve never saw John perform, and he would’ve never played in front of him, and the Beatles would've never happened. He thanks his lucky stars everyday for that meeting. He would’ve never met the one that got away.

That dark feeling in the pit of Paul’s stomach finally vanished after meeting John again. After they talked it out, it was like they never fought in the first place. Whenever Paul was in New York, which was more often than you’d think, he would try to take time out of his busy schedule to meet up with John. Calling beforehand of course because the one time he shows up unannounced it was a “problem”. He would’ve saw John more if it wasn’t for Yoko intercepting their plans. But when they were together it was nice, nostalgic even. And when they were not together, they were on the phone, a lot. Paul had just put his oven mitts down when the phone rang. He hurried over and picked it up.

“McCartney residence, who’s speaking?”

“Lennon, from the Lennon residence.”

“Johnny! How are you?”

“I’m doing good, you? The kids, the wife?”

“Alright. The wife and the kids say ‘Hi’.”

“Tell them I said ‘Hello, goodbye’". John chuckled. “Whatcha doing now?”

“Talking to you.” Paul leaned on the wall. “Actually I just put some bread in the oven.”

“Sod off.”

“What?”

“I just put some bread in the oven!”

“Really? What kind?”

“Just regular bread. I don’t think I’m there yet for special kinds of bread.”

“I’m making banana bread.”

John gasped. “Oh, I love banana bread! How do you make it?”

“It’s easy. All you need is ripe bananas, butter, sugar, egg, vanilla, baking soda, and flour. Melt the butter, and if you wanna feel extra professional, add chocolate chips.”

“Chocolate chips?” John awed.

“Yeah! You can add nuts, even fruits.”

“Paul, can you hear me drooling?”

They both laughed. Paul sighed. “God, look at us. Two fathers talking about banana bread.”

“Who would’ve thought? When are you free? I wanna see you again.”

“Well, Wings haven’t been doing anything since, _Japan_.” Paul shivered at the memory.

“Oh, _Japan_.”

“Yeah, _that_. The kids still got school but winter break is next week. Maybe we could fly over then, yeah?”

“That would be nice to see the kids but, I just want to see you... You see, I have these tapes I’d like to give you. I don’t know, maybe we could work on it and maybe even write some songs together, like we used to?” There was a silence. Paul beamed.

“Oh my God, yes, of course! I just have to work it over with Linda. I’ll call you once I have a date set. I’m kinda leaning on the twelfth. Is twelve good?”

“Twelve is perfect! I can’t wait to see you again.”

Paul heard rapid tapping on the other end. “Was that you?”

“Yes. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Paul was puzzled at first, then he figured it out. “Oh!” Paul tapped back.

John sighed. “It’s like we’re kids again.”

“I know...”

“Well, I gotta go wake up Sean from his nap.”

“Tell Sean uncle Paul says ‘Hi’.”

“I will. Think about me every now and then, my friend.”

“I will. Bye John.”

John hung up first. Paul felt an uneasy feeling, but shook it off.

 

Though his eyes are open he can't think of why. His heart is pounding, mind awake. Linda looked down at the stunned man.

“I didn’t have to wake you up for once… Are you okay?”

“I just had the weirdest dream.”

“Don’t tell me it’s another baby dream.”

“No, no… I had a dream where I was at this dinner table. And all of the people that I was close to was on one side. That included you, the kids, George, and Ringo. And on the other side were the people who passed. My mum, dad, Brian, and Mal. And straight in the middle of the table was John. He was just sitting there. Trying to tell me something”

“Do you think it might mean something?”

“I hope not, I have a bad feeling in my stomach Lin.”

“You’re just hungry. Come on it’s your turn to wake them up.”

Maybe he was just hungry. He hopped out of bed and went upstairs to wake  the sleeping children. They all sat in the circle shaped table as Paul made pancakes. Mary, now eleven, sat next to Stella, age nine. Heather, now seventeen, helped put down the plates as James, age two, sat on his mother’s lap. Paul looked back at his family and smiled, but he can’t shake the sad feeling off of him. After breakfast Linda took the kids out to the car outside to take them to school. Paul looked at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and sighed. The phone rang. Once, twice, then at the third ring Paul answered.

“McCartney residence… Who’s speaking?”


	18. Here Today: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul finds out John died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, the ending. I want to thank the wonderful readers who left kudos and left comments, you made writing this work the best thing ever. I had no idea this work would have 1,731 hits and counting! The work alone surpassed my previous works like holy shit! Thank you so much! And to think I started this during the beginning of my summer and now I'm returning to college soon, time flies! Again, thank you for coming back to read the updates. Until the next one my friends. Enjoy! :)

The sound of the phone clattering on the ground echoed off the walls. Paul fell into his knees. Defeated. Tears already falling down his cheeks. He stared into the blank white wall in front of him, vision blurry from his tears. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. It hurt when his mother passed, but this, this is a pain he had never felt before. He couldn’t breathe. He bend forward and rested his head on the floor. He closed his eyes. Replaying the memories over and over.

“Daddy’s sad.” Paul heard James whisper.

Linda crouched down. “Paul?”

“The twelfth. We were supposed to meet on the twelfth. Maybe if I flew out sooner he’d still be here. No. No. He would still be dead.” Paul said in a hushed whisper.

“Paul, you’re scaring me. What are you on about?”

“I knew it Linda. I knew something was wrong. What was he trying to tell me?”

Linda quickly took James upstairs and returned downstairs. She sat by Paul and began to rub his back. “Come on. Let’s go to the couch so you can sit.”

Paul only turned to his side. “I begged John to never leave me. You know what he said?”

“What did he say?”

“‘I can’t promise that’. That’s what he said. That same night he told he wasn’t going to live as long as me. It’s like he knew all along. So when New York happened, I didn’t think twice. But when I started missing him, he was too far away. It almost felt like he was already gone. But deep down we would meet again because we were ‘John’n’Paul’. All that bullshit didn’t matter because we loved each other.” Paul smiled for a second then frowned again. “And now…”

Paul sobbed into Linda’s thighs, hands clutching at her jacket. She held him in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked her pants. There was a moment when he pulled away, blinking his long lashes heavy with tears, before he collapsed again, his howls worsening. The minutes of sobbing were broken apart by short pauses for breaths. “...And now he really left me! This sinking feeling will never go away!”

“Shh… John’s in a better place my love.”

“How long am I going to wait to see him again?”

Linda didn’t answer, she just kept rubbing Paul’s back.

 

Paul wasn’t the same. He will never be the same. There were days where he barely saw the kids. He was trapped in the attic with bottles and bottles of alcohol to numb the pain. He’s been there before. He wrote countless letters that he’ll never send. Linda would find Paul o the ground ‘talking to John’. It was a sad sight to see. Linda went up to the attic to check on him. Paul was in his chair hasty writing down something.

“How are you holding up?”

Paul sniffled he kept his head down. “A little better.”

Linda stepped closer. “Mind if I see your face? It’s been a while since I saw your face.”

Paul slowly raised his head up. His beard was going in again. Linda looked down at what he was writing.

“Mind if I read that?”

Paul flipped the paper over. “It’s not done yet.”

“That’s okay.”

Paul handed Linda the paper. She read it out loud. “And if I said, I really knew you well What would your answer be? If you were here today? Well, knowing you you'd probably laugh and say that we were worlds apart, If you were here today. But as for me, I still remember how it was before, and I am holding back the tears no more, I love you.”

“It’s not done yet.” Paul mumbled.

“Paul, this is beautiful.” Linda crouched down. “And I know John will be so touched that you wrote this for him.”

“Yeah, he’d like this.”

Linda rested her arms on Paul’s thighs. “You and John’s relationship was something special, huh?”

“Very.” Paul laughed, for the first time in days.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing it’s just... We used to do this thing. We sorta did this as a reminder to both of us that we loved each other, without saying it- Give me your arm.”

Linda extended her arm out and Paul’s hand crawled up Linda’s arm. “We’d do that. Weird, huh?”

“I don’t think it’s weird, I think it’s special.”

The top row of Paul’s teeth were showing, and there was a faint curve to the lips,enough to crease below his eyes. He was actually smiling. The sorrow was in his eyes but it was the beginning of recovering. 

“It was our little thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? :)


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